Thirteen Crystals
by DarnedNoob
Summary: So much have been left undiscovered for so long. Now they've revealed themselves, and it isn't a peaceful reveal. Only thirteen vastly different crystals can save the one thing most important: Life. Note: Set pre-backstory. Read for more info. D
1. Prologue

Hey people, DarnedNoob here. I know I haven't been in the Maplestory section writing an epic for quite a while, but, hey, I'm writing for RuneScape fans too. Although with the dying number of reviewers on RuneScape, having only one review for the latest chapter of tSoB after quite a while. I must say the quality of stories here are much better too. Sometimes competition is good. =)

This is also pertaining to anyone who reads tSoB. I will be continuing it, but only when I feel like doing so. Real sorry.

As to any reviewers I have, I hope Thirteen Crystals is much better overall than Prologue. I've come a long way since then. For a start, let's have some compare and contrast:

One, the chapters should be longer by almost twice now. Of course, length of stories does not affect the quality much, but I like to think I describe better now.

Two, there will not be as many characters in the start. I've learnt my lesson. =S

Three, I will _attempt _to incorporate more than pure action and actually have a proper storyline. I think Prologue wasn't too good in that sense.

Four, while Prologue was inspired from stories of revenge, sacrifice, the human heart, etc etc, TC will have some inspiration, and possible blatant rip-offs, from anime. Not total, of course. Maybe some moves and things. Figure them out. =)

Five, Prologue is set in a present Maplestory. TC will be set – here's the interesting part – _before _even the five classes began. It probably shouldn't be fanfiction anymore except for maybe the location and some techniques, but I'm sure you all will accept that, yeah?

Oh, and the prologue of TC might seem like tSoB. I guess it's my style.

* * *

Let's start with some terminology I will be using. Some of them were used in Prologue, and I didn't really bother to explain them:

Techniques: Basically a nicer-sounding way of saying skills, e.g. Power Strike.

Spells: Same as techniques, but for less physical attacks, e.g. Ice Beam.

Mana: Think of Chakra in Naruto, or Reiatsu in Bleach. Maybe MP _and _HP in Maple.

Also, instead of the five jobs, we have:

Mêléers: Basically foot soldiers, closed-ranged people.

Assists: Think clerics. Think buffs.

Infiltrators: Stealth, immobilization and occasionally debuffing.

Snipers: Long-ranged riflemen.

Also, majority of the army _cannot _perform techniques. More will be explained as the story goes.

I guess that will be all. So, without further ado, I shall present: Thirteen Crystals.

* * *

Thirteen mystical jewels. It was all like a typical epic legend. Thirteen crystals with the power to change the world. One would classify it as an old wives' tale, albeit without the old wives talking about it.

One thing though. It was all true.

While humans have been kept in the dark, elves, the wise race of humanoid creatures know everything about three and ten gems, and have used what they have of the three and ten to their full potential, by passing them to only their queen and most loyal, skilled generals.

What are these crystals? They are actually, despite legends of it shaping the world as we know it, simply thirteen extremely powerful weapons that have control over various elements of the world, and of life.

Of course, I'd better not disclose too much information. The secret of the weapons' workings is for the elves alone to know. After all, humans can never play a part in the keeping of world order. The job is too large, too major for their puny kind.

Or is it?

* * *

I can tell more about the elves though. After all, it isn't as if they were _that_ secret. The Lord of Maple Island, who goes by the title of Dances With Balrog, and his advisors know much about them. It isn't as if another human knowing would kill.

Well, I did say that the elves _were _humanoid creatures. They weren't _that _human though, despite their stereotypical image.

Unlike humans, elves differ vastly in appearance with their race. More than how humans differ in skin color. Some looked human. Others only had the vague shape of one.

An example of a largely human elf would be their queen, Anita Pierce. For some strange coincidence, it was during Anita's reign that humans came to know of the elves, and vice versa.

This was not as bad as some cynical advisors thought. While the elves were inherently skilled in combat, the humans were greater in number, and had the potential to learn, to obtain intelligence far more than what they were born with. This made them stand out from other species.

As such, the elves sent their best generals to teach human soldiers all they needed to know about combat, and the humans repaid the favor through pledging to protect the elves in the case of an attack. The generals did not teach and give _everything_, though. If the humans broke their treaty, a few of the best elven warriors will give them a proper lesson in keeping their promises.

Unknown to both humans and elves, they were about to make use of this alliance _very _soon. A real threat was coming their way.

* * *

The elven General Charles Sheath sighed as he went through the items he was about to teach his team today. The past few months had been a disaster. Despite having only sent four human trainees per General, apparently the best of the best, his group was having problems.

The only person he'll say was gifted for combat was Cyan. His skills with the sword were unmatched. People say humans were born with nothing and learnt everything they knew from experience, unlike elves. Charles liked to think Cyan was an exception.

Then there was Neville. He was good, but only as good as a human will be. Fitting with the fact stated above, Neville knew nothing but what he was taught, and even so learnt at a slightly slower rate than his fellow teammates. But he was hardworking, and that was what mattered.

The trouble was with Anorak. He could be good at combat, but he couldn't be bothered to learn. Of course, that was probably because he was merely a teenager, by human standards. But then again, so was Neville.

Even worse was Garena. He wouldn't even attend training. Some kind of pupil.

The General twirled a throwing knife in his exceptionally long and slender fingers, paper-white skin and black nails contrasting with the silver steel of the weapon. He flicked the knife, hitting a red crystal into the air. Charles caught it.

General Sheath was going to show them the full extent of what they had to go through the next day. And he would do so with the innocent-looking crystal in his hand.

* * *

That's all for the prologue.


	2. Force

Well, I'm sorry if the prologue was confusing. I try my best.

Here's the _real_ first chapter. =)

* * *

Anorak Zaire was, as usual, not having a good time. The Mêléer wasn't really _that _much into combat. He had only signed up as part of a four-man, one-elf team due to orders from Dances With Balrog himself.

Anorak's frown grew more profound at the thought of the one elf. General Charles Sheath was a tall, thin humanoid, more a pale white stick than an elf. Of course, this didn't mean the General wasn't strong. For that kind of size, he was good. General Sheath had once broke Anorak's left arm and leg with two fingers. Anorak winced at the memory.

There was going to be training in another two hours. Generally he wouldn't have woke up this early, but Anorak couldn't sleep much today. And anyway, he needed some time of his own, without the General shouting in his ear.

At the opposite side of the room was Cyan, snoring away. The little idiot never trained much in his free time, only depending on what Charles taught. And yet he was the best among them. Some fairness. He was an Assist, but his swordplay was unmatched so far.

The bunk just beside him was empty. As expected. Even before dawn Neville was training on his own. It was to be expected though.

Neville Bladesman was from a long line of skilled fighters, and at least one in the line had been the best in a field of the army, be it Mêlée, Infiltration, Assist or Sniper. Neville was an Infiltrator by class, but his stubbornness and determination matched that of a typical Mêléer. Unlike Anorak.

Anorak decided he had enough of being lazy. He got up, and put some clothes on, grabbed his plain old steel sword and made his way to the dummy room.

The dummy room was called a dummy room for more than one reason. The first was that it contained, well, dummies. The other was that if you had no choice but to train in a dummy room, you were a bloody dumb guy.

Despite the phrase 'bloody dumb guy' echoing in his head, Anorak strode into the pitch-dark room. He could hear the soft steps, and the occasional squeak of the floorboards, coming from the other end of the room. Neville was honing his footwork _and _fencing on a _stationary _target. Anorak rolled his eyes.

"Dude, you need someone better to play against." The Mêléer said, lighting a candle to illuminate the room. "Play against me."

Neville turned around, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He was one of the few soldiers who was above the rank of Private and was under eighteen who had shaved his head bald. Hell, Anorak had even dyed his hair a jet black, and let it fall over his left eye once. Until General Sheath cut the fringe off with his fingernail during a practice session of unarmed combat. Cyan had managed to retain most of his teal hair that day. Very deceiving, the hair, considering he was a top-rate fighter.

"Sure? I've been training, you know. I don't want you to cry so badly."

Anorak smirked. "I won't be going easy on you, you know. I hope _you _don't cry so badly."

With that line, the Mêléer swung his sword upwards from his scabbard, missing Neville altogether, who had sidestepped in time.

The Infiltrator dashed in, drawing a combat knife from his sleeve. He lashed out wildly.

Anorak parried the blows, ducking at the last one and sneaking a stab of his own.

Once again, Neville moved away in time, pulling a second knife out at his left hand and stabbing at Anorak's neck. A textbook move for an Infiltrator. Neville had been studying.

Anorak pushed himself backwards. The dagger missed by an inch, and he slammed down hard on it with his sword. The dagger flew out of Neville's hand.

However, Neville did a well-timed kick, flicking the dagger upwards and smashing into Anorak. He was about to push the blade with his forehead at the hilt, when something silver and reflective slashed past, knocking the dagger away.

The candlelight shone onto some greenish-blue surface. Or hair dyed teal.

"Come on, so early? The fight woke me up. Attack quietly next time. I mean, God's sake, you're an Infiltrator, Bladesman."

Cyan had an annoying habit of calling anyone, even his friends, by their last name. Probably gave him a sense of authority.

"And by the way, I just came to say that General Sheath gave me a message to say that training starts early today. He likes that you two are training. Especially you, Zaire."

Anorak accepted the indirect dig with a small, tight smile.

"So, yeah, get the hell there. I'll be waiting." With that, Cyan disappeared without a trace. Not bad footwork for an Assist. His swordplay was better than his first aid, though.

"Let's go. Not too good to have the General waiting for us." Neville muttered.

Anorak nodded silently. He remembered the pull ups he had to endure for being two minutes late. 50 does not look like a lot until it means 25 per hand, separately. That's something.

* * *

At this point in the story, we shall skip straight to the important bit of the training. I understand that physical training is always important, especially for the soldiers, but hey, you aren't the soldier, are you?

* * *

"Alright, team. That should be enough for the day." General Sheath grinned.

Overall, the status of the three-man team was, put lightly, dampening. The fourth teammate, Garena, their Sniper, was absent. As usual.

"So, I'm guessing I kind of overworked you people." Charles Sheath stated, simply. The frowns from all three and a curse from Anorak confirmed what the General had just said.

"And," he continued, "I'll tell you all the reason why I have to work you people to death. Firstly, it's my orders, from the Queen herself."

Anorak found himself getting bored. He had been through this a lot of times during training. It was supposed to motivate the team, but hey, the Mêléer still wasn't interested in fighting.

"Secondly, I care that you humans are able to defend yourselves in the event of an emergency. Despite our general opinion, I feel that humans can still have the potential to aid us. You people are _not _useless."

That woke the three up. They had never heard anything like that from their General and team leader. Usually rebukes were all he had.

"This is why I have decided to show what I am going to show today. I want you all to know what it means to be part of an elven General's team." With that, General Sheath took a crimson, well-cut crystal from his pocket. The jewel shone in the noon sun, outshining even the blades of grass on the field they were training at.

"This, is something only Generals and the Queen Anita herself are entrusted with. Altogether there are thirteen, although we only have six. This particular crystal is named Force."

Anorak nearly chuckled. A red diamond that almost looked like a fake, with such a lame name. And it was supposed to be important.

What happened next rid Anorak of any want of chuckling.

The crimson of the crystal grew lighter, changing from a pink to finally a blinding white glow. The glow then changed shape, forming a broadsword of some kind, except that there was no hilt whatsoever, and that when the sword lost its glow, it remained in the same shade of white. Every single bit of it.

Neville and Cyan had their mouths wide open. Anorak had closed his mouth after almost attempting a smart comment.

General Sheath swung the sword gently, almost lazily. A fully grown, two-storey high tree beside him fell, its trunk cut clean.

"Going by research and some elven folklore, there is a crystal capable of producing a weapon that cuts through anything like butter. That crystal is named Force. Although this Force does not equal in power to the one in the legends, and its appearance is slightly different, I like to think that it is the same crystal."

Cyan recovered quickest. "So what's the point of you showing us this?"

"The first point," General Sheath said, "is that with such a powerful weapon in my hands, I still bother to be part of your team, even if as a teacher. That says much about how much you all are capable of. Sure, Dances With Balrog chose you people, but I was the one who handpicked you three – four, including Garena – into my team."

All three were shocked. Sure, Cyan was good for his age, but Neville had never displayed much potential other than hard work, and Anorak was basically a slacker.

"The second point is that with such a powerful item in my control, you'd be sure not to disobey my orders, or you'll know what's coming next."

Anorak winced at this. He decided that Charles Sheath wasn't going as soft as he thought.

* * *

While Neville and Cyan had returned to their room, Anorak stayed among the fields of green. Amazing how such a peaceful place could be the site of such grueling training.

The Mêléer was not training now. Rather, he was sitting amidst the tall grass, thinking. He knew what General Sheath did just now was just to motivate them, but Anorak's mind was still set.

It wasn't that Anorak wanted to slack. There was just something about fighting that seemed meaningless. All this training just to end another life quicker. Was it worth it? After all, no one was attacking Maple Island yet.

"Aren't you with the rest?" a voice spoke from behind him.

Anorak turned around to see the General, hands in pockets, looking just like a relaxed, carefree human, albeit a pale-skinned and extremely thin one. He just stayed silent.

"I know you still don't want to train. It's perfectly easy if you just think about the rewards physical training will grant you."

Still not a single word from Anorak.

"You don't want to fight, do you? This is all some serious bullshit on the King's part, isn't it?"

Anorak finally looked up. There was a hint of surprise in his eyes, but still the bored expression remained. "Why would you say so?"

"I just know so." Charles Sheath replied. "I just want to say this. Anorak Zaire, you have the potential to be a great Warrior, or whatever you humans call closed-ranged fighters. Your swordplay can be excellent, if you let it."

Anorak turned back. "It's just the thing about fighting. Why are we trained to kill? There is no future in warring. It all makes no sense to me. And, before you bring up the need to defend Maple Island, I'll have to say that I just _want _to leave the defending to someone else. I'm not meant for combat. I don't want to be."

General Sheath sighed.

"I guess there's nothing I can do about that, then. Get back to your bunk. You're still our Mêléer, no matter what."

"But, General…" Anorak turned back to see that the General was gone. All that remained was a light breeze. This time, it was the reluctant Mêléer's turn to sigh, as he walked back to the team's room.

* * *

"There're too many of them! Retreat!" The elf called out. He waved a purely white rod around, wide-open eyes showing an obvious sign of panic. The four humans scattered around the forest heard the cry. If their General was announcing retreat, the enemy must be skilled, or heavy in numbers. They haven't seen an army the elf hadn't been able to face solo before.

Almost immediately, a cry broke out within the thick forest of trees. A high-pitched cry of pain. It sounded human. One of the General's team of five had been struck down.

"David's down! Ichrin! We need your help!"

"Coming! How's the injury?"

"As bad as it can get! He's losing blood fast...and call the General! There's another of the…"

Just then, another scream broke out, silencing the hurried shouts. It was quiet again amidst the low growls that almost echoed around the forest.

The Assist whose name was Ichrin was about to lose his reason soon. Panic was overtaking him. David and George had been taken by whoever had attacked. Their Sniper and Mêléer. He hoped Joseph was okay.

This time, there was the sound of dead branches cracking on the floor. Joseph, their Infiltrator, was attacking.

Ichrin dashed out to see Joseph taken by surprise, and slashed at. A splatter of crimson appeared on the trees. Ichrin felt sick. He was an Assist, a field medic, but he never got used to seeing wounds.

The team's General ran forward, white staff in hand. He twirled the weapon, smashing the head of whoever was attacking. The opponent fell, and Ichrin had a clear view of it.

Whatever it was, it had brown and black fur, and a humanoid shape. Its claws were sharp, and it was easily twice the size of a human. Jet black horns curved up from its head. Its red eyes were open forever in death.

"What…what is this?" Ichrin whispered.

"I'll answer that later. Tend to Joseph's wounds – he has a chance of surviving." The General replied.

"Just tell me who the hell are attacking! This is freaking me out!"

"Balrogs."

* * *

It had been a long time since the alarm had rung, but ring it did, and early in the morning too. Most people would classify it as an hour or two past midnight.

Anorak shot out of his bunk immediately. It wasn't as if he was sleeping heavily. Far from that.

Looking around, he could tell that Neville and Cyan were up, too. Sure, there was training today, but with this particular alarm sounding, all other teams had to be mobilized too. Something important was going on. Hopefully it was some surprise fire drill Dances With Balrog had seen fit to organize.

"What's up?" Neville was getting dressed in his usual uniform, complete with armor. He believed in getting used to wearing metal all the time as a soldier, said it helped him train sneaking around unheard like an Infiltrator should.

"Beats me. Hope it's a drill," was Anorak's answer. "In any case, I'll just get moving."

Cyan had donned his combat attire, complete with sewn-in first aid kit, too. Totally uncharacteristic of him, until Anorak remembered that armies generally don't fall in with shirt and jeans, even for a practice drill.

Anorak pulled his rather heavy Mêléer's armor from under his bunk, attempting to put them on as fast as possible. Thankfully, he had thought to practice a week or two ago. The entire team was done in nearly seconds.

"Garena isn't around again." Cyan noted, deadpan. Garena, their ever-absent-from-training Sniper, was the only person Cyan referred to by first name, probably because they all didn't know Garena enough to know his full name.

"Whatever. It's not as if anyone within the teams misses him. Let's get moving." Anorak retorted, grabbing his sword, sheath and all. Neville pocketed his daggers and Cyan hauled a long, thin casing. Anorak imagined that his sword, dagger, throwing knives, automatic crossbow and spare first-aid kit was all inside.

After a brief run, the team of four minus one made it to the training fields where once again General Charles Sheath was waiting. This time, two other Generals and their teams were there too. Two teams were missing. There was supposed to be five teams.

Watching as the three took their positions, Dances With Balrog stood forward, and cleared his throat.

"I am glad everyone posted in Maple Island managed to make it. I shall proceed to the point immediately."

_Everyone in Maple Island? _Anorak wondered. _Where're the two elves and nine humans missing?_

"The point is that, the two teams at Victoria Island, or Ellinia and Henesys respectively, have been attacked. The team at Henesys was all killed. We have received no news from the Ellinia team. The attackers, whoever they are, endanger the elves of the two cities. Something must be done."

"As such, I will be sending two teams as reinforcements. General Dane's team will watch over Henesys and Lith Harbor as they train, and General Sheath's will search for the Ellinian team as well as watch over Ellinia and Perion."

All this talk about Victoria Island was getting Anorak confused. Where was this Victoria Island? All his life he had only known of the island named Maple. Was it possible that there was more to the world than what he had seen?

As the teams dispersed to do whatever they had to do, and prepare whatever they needed, Anorak and Neville approached their General. Cyan was already making his way to…somewhere. Anorak wasn't sure where.

"Where's this Victoria Island? Why is it that we have never heard of it?" Neville questioned General Sheath.

"Victoria Island is the elves' homeland. My home." Charles Sheath answered. "Named after the island's founder, Queen Victoria the First. It has grown into a great country, with three major cities and a harbor that matched the cities in size. It is a peaceful land. We have not been attacked since a few generations before me. It is strange that the teams stationed at Henesys have been killed."

Anorak frowned. 'Strange' was not how he liked his missions. Then again, he never really liked combat.

"We'll be leaving immediately. Prepare anything you all might need and assemble at the entrance of Southperry in half an hour." General Sheath said, walking off.

Neville looked sideways at his teammate Anorak. His eyes said, _damn, we're well-done steaks._

Anorak shrugged back.

_I couldn't agree more._

* * *

That's all for now I guess. Reviews pl0x. Constructive criticism is gladly accepted. =)


	3. Mana

Well, if the last chapter seemed boring, all the initial action is here. Sorry. =)

* * *

It had been an hour or two since Dances With Balrog had briefed the teams. As Anorak, Neville, Cyan, General Sheath and the other team were about to board the ship to Victoria Island, Dances With Balrog ran straight up to them. He was fast for one who seemingly sat on a throne all day.

Neville turned around. "Yes?"

"I just want you to have this. It will help you." Dances With Balrog pulled a gauntlet out of his cloak, passing it to Neville. The Infiltrator took it reverently with both hands. Anorak raised an eyebrow. Of all people, why Neville?

"This was a gift from Queen Anita of the elves. I decided that you can put it to better use than me. Use it well, then. You'll know how to when the time comes."

Neville nodded. "I will."

As Dances With Balrog left, Anorak and Cyan immediately turned to Neville.

"What was that about? Dances With Balrog! Our king!"

Neville had an apologetic smile on his face.

"Well, maybe I never told you all this. Dances With Balrog is a title. His name is Neville Bladesman III, and yes, I'm his eldest son."

Anorak could only stare in wonder. This was his closest friend, and he was the heir to the most powerful position a human could have.

"Oh, and before I get asked this question again. I'm in the army because it is customary of all from the Bladesman clan to have been a soldier once. In fact, prowess in combat is a major factor of whether or not one has a place in the clan."

_Woah_. Anorak decided that being a prince wasn't that wonderful after all.

"Hurry up, people. We have a ship to catch." General Sheath interrupted them.

The three teammates rushed up the plank, boarding the ship that would take them from the only island they had ever known. Time to pay Victoria Island a visit.

* * *

The first impression Anorak had of Victoria Island was that it was _huge_. Immensely so.

"It's huge." The Mêléer gasped. "I can't even see both sides of the island from here…"

"Well, we elves thought Maple Island was small when we went there." General Sheath laughed. "I guess Victoria is big though. Maple Island has three cites next to each other while Victoria Island has three cities, one harbor and a whole lot of country and unexplored land."

"Unexplored land?" Neville's ears were sharp. He walked over from where he was watching the sea. "What land?"

"Well, all our three cities, Ellina, Perion and Henesys are located at the far east, north and south of the island. Anyone who ventured too near the middle never came back, dead or alive."

"Okay…" Neville was getting uneasy. He hoped the loss of the two teams had nothing to do with whatever was in the center.

"We're reaching in ten minutes. Get your belongings." The General said suddenly, running off below deck to obtain some items.

"Woah. How'd he know that?"

Neville pointed out an approaching wooden platform to Anorak. Technically, the ship was approaching the platform, but the former was what it seemed like to Anorak.

"Judging by our distance from the harbor, I'd say ten minutes too."

* * *

General Sheath and his team finally stepped on dry ground. The trip hadn't been long enough for them to get used to standing in a ship, so balancing themselves immediately after alighting wasn't a problem.

General Dane's team had already set off for Henesys, and the ship was heading back to Maple Island. It was time to move.

"Alright, guys, let's get going. Follow me." Charles Sheath jogged off to Lith Harbor's exit, but stopped abruptly.

Cyan caught up with him, followed by Anorak and Neville. "Anything wrong, General?"

"Lith Harbor seems a little different. A little quieter…"

It was at that exact moment that four roughly humanoid figures pounced at the group.

General Sheath pulled the same red crystal Force out of his coat, and it transformed into the purely white sword once again. The General swung back, catching one of the mysterious assassins at the neck. The other three simply took the opportunity to attack Charles Sheath undefended.

However, General Sheath simply grabbed one opponent and swung him by the arm into the other two. Or that was what was _supposed _to have happened. Sheath's arm simply _went _through his opponent. Strangely, his arm felt like it had a million pins and needles stuck in, and some force was pulling and pushing at it. General Sheath suddenly recalled when he had felt that before.

This was Mana, marshaled into the form of a living being. A Balrog.

General Sheath pushed the Balrog behind him away with a shove of his broadsword, and slashed wildly in front of him.

As expected, the Balrogs could be injured by his sword. Force was a Mana-based sword. Only Mana can destroy Mana.

But unexpectedly, the Balrogs were only mildly stunned by the sword. It seemed that Force didn't have enough Mana. General Sheath's eyes were wide with surprise.

General Sheath noted something else. There were only three Balrogs left around him. The one who was originally behind him had rejoined the battle. That meant that…

The General turned around to find the remaining Balrog attacking Neville. Cyan and Anorak attempted to attack it, but both ended up with burnt sleeves. For some reason, their arms were not injured. Only beings with Mana inside of them could withstand touching pure Mana.

The Balrogs noticed the distraction, taking advamtage of it to attack General Sheath. The General was slammed to the ground, and Force flew out of his hand. It immediately morphed back into a crimson diamond.

Anorak saw the crystal, saw his mentor being attacked relentlessly by the Balrogs. He immediately dashed for the crystal.

General Sheath saw his student run for the jewel.

"Don't bother." His voice was steady and strong, despite the Balrogs bashing at him. "Only beings with matching Mana type can hold the crystal."

Anorak was a little confused by the statement, but didn't show it. What the hell was Mana? He would use the crystal and save his mentor.

And so, before General Sheath could stop him, before Neville, Cyan and the Balrogs noticed, Anorak did what would change his life forever.

He took the crystal.

* * *

Despite General Sheath's talk about Mana type or whatever _that _was, the blood-red crystal Force started glowing in Anorak's hand, reaching the exact same point of white as it had earlier.

Once again, the crystal grew into a large broadsword, widening at the handle and sloping inwards, both sides of the blade meeting at the end to form an isosceles triangle. But instead of the sword being pure white, the blinding glow faded.

This time, the blade itself was the silver color of steel, and a gold line ran down the blade, all the way to its golden hilt. The handle was silver, with crimson grips embedded into it. The letters _vis _could be seen, carved in red on the gold of the blade. _Vis _stood for _force _in Latin.

General Sheath's eyes widened. _This _was the form Force had taken in the legends. All the while, the crystal he had was the real stuff.

Anorak stared at the sword in wonder. He swung it experimentally. The sword was extremely light to him, and the grips fit his right hand perfectly. The handle extended below for him to wield two-handed if necessary. Time to see what it could do.

The Mêléer ran forward, sword held horizontally like a jouster. Upon reaching a Balrog, Anorak swung Force upwards. The broadsword cut into the being of Mana, revealing a swirling mix of black and purple within. Another slash beheaded the Balrog.

The red eyes of the Balrog faded away, followed by the rest of the head. The body dissipated into a black mist, and faded away too. General Sheath took advantage of this attack to push the other Balrogs out and run, giving Anorak a chance to slash the other three Balrogs. He caught one claw with his hand, used his sword to block another attack, and dodged the last.

Anorak then tripped one Balrog, stabbing it with Force. With his sword now free, he dragged the Balrog he held by the claw in front of him, stabbing it. He then ducked and twirled Force above his head, finally slashing the last Balrog through the waist.

Force reverted back into the innocent-looking red jewel in Anorak's hand. Charles Sheath simply thrust his hand out. Reluctantly, Anorak gave the crystal to the General.

The red crystal simply _fell through _General Sheath's hand, dropping to the ground. The General attempted to pick it up, but it was as if the gem was…_not there._

"I think I can explain that." Cyan walked up to the General. Neville followed him.

"And how _would _you?" General Sheath turned to Cyan.

"I've been studying elven legends. Especially that of the Thirteen Crystals. Different magical beings have a different type of Mana. Each crystal will only willingly transform into its true form when used by the one being whose Mana matches the crystal most. Once true form has been achieved, no one else can use the crystal."

"And this means that…"

"Yes, General. I believe Zaire's Mana type matches Force. Anorak Zaire is a magical being."

* * *

"So…I'm some living being of Mana, and for some reason, Force likes me." Anorak raised an eyebrow at General Sheath and Cyan. Neville beside him was listening quietly and carefully. The team was making their way to Ellinia, having already recovered from the Balrog ambush.

"Well…you can put it that way." General Sheath nodded. "But Cyan didn't really explain everything just now. I'll say it all in clearer terms…"

What follows is General Charles Sheath's and Cyan's combined account of the theory of Mana.

* * *

The world as we know it is made up of more than the elements we know in the periodic table. The energy that is constantly transferred from object to object plays a much more important part.

What is energy? Energy can be described as a scalar physical quantity of work performed by a force, but that's how a human describes it.

Energy is better said to be this invisible…_thing _that exists everywhere. There will always be a constant amount of energy in the world. That the humans have gotten correct. In fact, human's interpretations of energy are largely correct. They have even found that energy can be converted from one form to another. However, they have missed out on a very important part of the world, closely related to energy.

Mana.

Mana is the energy all magical beings have within them. It is what the Balrogs and the Thirteen Crystals consist of.

Mana has different forms. The Mana Anorak has within him is something related to Kinetic Energy, while General Sheath's is a mix of that same Mana type and some abstract Mana type related to the speed of time relative to how General Sheath perceives it. In other words, time can slow down or speed up for him, draining his Mana. But of course, the Mana will recover with sufficient rest. Energy can never be destroyed or created, only converted to another form.

What have the crystals to do with all this?

Each crystal affects Mana, or even energy itself, in different ways. For example, Force is able to convert any energy to a kinetic form. Common sense states that when a sword hits an opponent, some energy is wasted on light and sound transferred. Force keeps everything in kinetic form. The possibilities are endless.

Another thing is that Balrogs are made up of Mana. As of now, the weapons the crystals transform to are one of the only means to destroy a Balrog effectively. This is because all crystals can _absorb_ Mana, and in some cases energy. This is what makes a crystal interesting. While energy can be transferred, a crystal is the only case where energy is being forced from one object to another. Therefore, a crystal can force the Mana of a Balrog out, killing it.

A simpler way of putting Mana is this: a magic-imbued fighter has some exceptional ability within him, specified by the type of Mana. If paired with the right crystal, his Mana can be drained for other benefits. Of course, draining ­_all _one' Mana can kill. Also, while the word _drain _is used, the Mana just goes into a form of potential energy stored within one's body. This energy is poisonous, and exhausts one's physical body quickly.

In short, this Mana can be used for large advantages, but it can mean the user's downfall too. Much care must be taken when using Mana.

* * *

"Wait, run that by me again." Anorak had said. Being introduced to this Mana, and to the Balrogs who had attacked them was too much for him. He had just entered a new world, and now he was more than a bystander.

So his kinetic-type Mana was a total match with Force, more than General Sheath. He looked at the crystal in his hand. Such a coincidence that they had met.

_Coincidence. Or is it?_

Anorak turned to the General.

"Is the crystal why I'm in your team? Did you pick me for me to inherit Force?"

General Sheath was strangely quiet. Throughout their trip to Ellinia, his head had been bowed; he had been staring at the ground silently. It was most unlike their mentor.

"…Yes, that is a reason." Charles Sheath's response was tiny, a whisper.

Anorak raised an eyebrow. Judging by the General's voice, he wasn't to be questioned as of now. But, Anorak wondered, why did General Sheath try to stop him from grabbing the crystal just now then?

General Sheath broke the unusual silence all of a sudden.

"As the current wielder of our team's only crystal, you shall have to train even harder. If Balrogs _have _attacked the Ellinian team, you're the only guy who can kill them. Are you up to it?"

That sounded more like their General.

"Sir, if you will, you can tutor Anorak while we two search for the lost team. We can handle it." Neville said.

Anorak turned to look at Neville with an expression that said, _are you _that _nuts?_ Neville simply replied with a _leave it to me and shut up_ expression.

General Sheath frowned at the suggestion.

"You? You haven't even finished your training yet. You're a Bladesman, Neville. Sure, it is your custom to enlist, but personally, combat is too dangerous for the royal. Truth to speak, you're not ready yet."

"I can manage. I mean, Cyan will be on my side too." Neville winked at the Assist. "Right?"

"Yeah, yeah." Cyan said with a bored tone. It was extremely obvious he was just playing along for the sake of it, but the General decided not to pursue the matter.

"Alright then," General Sheath relented. "But signal if a Balrog ever attacks. You all saw what it can do to one without a crystal. Use the flares I gave you, although it _will _attract attention from the Ellinians. But hey, isn't that the point?"

"Yes, sir." Neville nodded fervently. "I'll protect myself well. Thank you sir."

"Hey, you people can't leave me alone." Anorak grumbled. "I'll be training by myself."

"All the better. You're special, and need more attention. Force is something to be reckoned with." General Sheath cut in. "And besides, I need some amount of space to have 1-on-1 duels with you."

Anorak nearly fainted at that.

* * *

The team of four had settled in a small tree house in Ellinia. The city was peaceful, the elves were friendly upon seeing one of their trusted Generals. Things were running smoothly. The elves had even provided a wide area for Anorak to train in, complete with dummies of varying toughness. Anything else would have to be built from scratch though.

Neville, Cyan and Anorak were resting in the tiny room now. The next morning, Neville and Cyan would start their search for the team while Anorak will commence his training. General Sheath had a lot in plan for the Mêléer.

Charles Sheath was standing beside the tree that housed their bunk when a midget elf, short yet slim, carrying an equally streamlined backpack rushed toward him. That would be a messenger. Elves of this stature usually got this job for a very obvious reason.

"Message for you, General Sheath. General Dane's team had gone missing. Even the tracker on him had disappeared off the radar. General Johnson's team is being sent in from Victoria Island. We request that you take extreme caution while searching for General Evelyn and her team. It is suspected that the Balrogs are awakening again."

"I know," Charles Sheath answered. "My team was attacked by Junior Balrogs at the entrance of Lith Harbor."

* * *

That's all for now. Haven't been able to get much time to write recently. Oh, and sorry if this chapter was boring. Or confusing. I am aware that the portion about Mana was a little complicated…

Um…and yeah, the action was mostly postponed to later. There _is _a scene here though.


End file.
